


Gloves

by MycroftsUmbrella78



Category: The Sound of Music - Rodgers/Hammerstein/Lindsay & Crouse
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-04-21 12:38:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4829423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MycroftsUmbrella78/pseuds/MycroftsUmbrella78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She looked a tad pale and her palms were clammy; not like the graceful and erudite fiancee to a naval hero at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Nervous, perhaps just shy of a full panic.

She looked a tad pale and her palms were clammy; not like the graceful and erudite fiancee to a naval hero at all. She stuck her tongue out at herself in the mirror and went to find her shoes, reconciled that she looked like a girl dressed in her mother’s fancy clothes. Just pretending. Maria sat down on the end of the bed and sighed as she slipped into the shoes. The shoes, not her shoes. Her shoes were well worn and still a bit muddy from trekking across the creek to find frogs. She slid her finger across the glittering decoration at the toe, shaking her head. The heels seemed to advertise the difference between who she was and who she wished to be that night. They looked gorgeous and matched the dress perfectly but they pinched at the toe and by the end of the night would be more than a throbbing reminder that she didn’t belong here. No need for shoes such as this in an abbey and these elbow length gloves would be more than useless on a mountain. 

She flicked her eyes up to the wardrobe and gave the neat row of new clothes a wary look. She was still shocked when she opened the doors to find them, they seemed to belong to another woman, put there by mistake and soon to be taken back to whom they were made for. Was she made for this? When she went to put them on she found herself longing to keep reaching to the back for one of the dresses she had made.

It didn't matter, she thought, and with a deep sigh she heaved herself off the bed, tottering a bit in the heels. Wanting him meant dealing with all of this, extra. Loving him meant leaving behind what she had known and reinventing herself a bit. How hard could it be? After all, she had walked into uncomfortable situations before in this very home and things had turned out quite well indeed. Maria smiled a private smile at the memory of her first moments meeting him, even now she felt a flush of embarrassment at being caught dancing alone in his ballroom. Hopefully he would like tonight’s dress better than the one she had arrived in. He hadn’t been at all what she was expecting. Even now he continued to surprise her, engaging her in conversation, teasing her playfully, or sneaking up on her to kiss her breathless.

She smoothed a wrinkle from the front of the dress and sighed. It wasn't the wardrobe choices, not really. Even at the Abbey, as she tried to eschew worldly goods, she had always found her eye drawn to pretty clothes. It was the people in the clothes that she feared. 

Maria hummed a few bars of nonsense to calm herself as she looked under the bed for her evening bag and taking a last look in the mirror forced a smile and headed out the door of her room. She had already said goodnight to the children but as she descended the stairs she heard a voice call her name. 

“You look beautiful,” whispered Liesel with a grin on her face. Louisa and Brigitta stuck their heads out of the door to concur.

“Thank you my darlings, now, back to bed before your father catches you out. I’ll tell you all the details at breakfast,” she winked at them and started back down the stairs. 

As she reached the bottom she realized that she was alone, and she was unsurprised. Georg was always the last one down the stairs, and they said women take forever to get ready! She left her clutch on the table and leaned against the pillar to wait him out. Probably working on his hair, she thought as she let out a snort and settled in for a wait. 

Hearing his door creak open she watched him emerge from the hallway, with perfect hair, and she had to admit he was always worth the wait. As tonights fete was being held by a former naval officer, he was wearing his Victoria Cross, the first time she had seen him in it since the night they danced the Laendler. She wondered idly as she watched him pause to adjust his cuffs if they would play that song tonight. Would they have another opportunity to finish what they started? Her heart beat jumped at the thought. She closed her eyes, remembering the cloth of his jacket under her fingertips, the heat of his body warming her, the press his palms against the small of her back. She had pulled away then, frightened by the feelings that had flooded her and the look in his eyes as he watched her back away. She hadn’t known what that look meant then, only that it had made her breath catch and her body flush with heat. Wiser now, she knew that given a chance to repeat that performance she would be stepping closer and inviting the pleasurable burn of his gaze and everything that came after it. 

He stopped in the middle of the staircase when he noticed her leaning against a pillar, eyes closed and humming softly to herself. He wondered what she was thinking as she waited for him with such a far away expression. Though beautiful in rags and running through a field with his children she was stunning when the occasion called for it. He noted that her icy blue dress was almost strapless, held up by some translucent fabric. It bared the delicate skin of her shoulders and collarbones, left them utterly exposed and Georg’s fist clenched as he realized he’d spend this evening trying to keep his hands off. 

“Mine,” he murmured to himself as he descended the staircase. 

He took a deep breath at the surge of unseemly possessiveness that threatened his equilibrium and tried to will his heart to slow its pounding tattoo against his chest at the sight of her, waiting. For him. 

She suddenly opened her eyes as he clipped down the last of the steps and onto the landing with her. She smiled at him but he noticed that it didn't reach her eyes. He cocked his head as he took her hand in his, studying her. He knew she was nervous about the evening, he knew he needed to open his mouth and offer her reassurance but he seemed unable to form clear thoughts as he watched her teeth tug at her lower lip. She was beautiful, uneasy because she wanted to please him, impress his friends, all because she loved him. Georg was baffled. Did she truly not realize that she had to do no more than be herself and she’d have half of Austria falling at her feet? Well, the male half at least. He stifled a little growl at the thought of other men sharing the view he was enjoying now and took another deep breath. He would never last the night this way, struggling with himself, he mentally reached for his usually admirable control. A few deep breaths later, that most certainly did not note the tantalizing scent of her perfume, and he felt more like himself. 

Fidgeting a bit under his scrutiny and trying to fill the silence she reached up to touch the red and white ribbon at his throat and smooth out an imaginary wrinkle. 

“You look very handsome tonight, Captain,” she offered. He simply stood still, looking at her as his silence stretched between them. She glanced down at herself and wondered if something was amiss, perhaps he didn’t care for the dress? It was more daring than some of the other dresses she had considered, perhaps she should have chosen that green one. Maria shifted a bit and suddenly decided her shoes were fascinating. 

Still contemplating them she cleared her throat a bit and let out nervous laugh, “Well, umm, perhaps we should go…”

“No,” he shook his head, wrestling for the right words he simply spilled out the truth. “Not just yet. I’m not sure I feel like sharing tonight”, he mumbled as he raised his free hand to trace the bow of her upper lip with his thumb. Not as in control as he had thought, he wanted to drag her back upstairs and… He shook his head slightly to clear it, knowing that continuing those thoughts would be singularly unwise. 

She looked up and met his eyes, recognizing the look in them, the desire. Certain he was going to kiss her she tilted her chin up, her lips tingling. But he simply held her gaze as he lifted the hand he had been holding and pressed a kiss to the bare skin on her wrist, exposed by the button loop of the glove. Georg placed her hand over his pounding heart willing her to feel it. 

He pressed his palm over her small hand. “Feel?,” he asked her voice dropping low for her ears only. “Everytime I see you, from the very first. You are beautiful.” 

Her mouth made a perfect ‘O’ but no sound came out, astonished by his honesty she felt her own heart hammer in response. Still uncomfortable with such praise Maria gave him a real smile, blushed and deflected, 

“Thank you, but I know very well that it hasn’t been ‘always’. Do you not remember the day we met, right here? You had no such illusions about me then,” she shot him a raised brow. 

Undeterred by her teasing he pressed a longer kiss to her wrist, scraping gently with his teeth and enjoying her shiver of pleasure.  
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that… In fact, as I recall I told you it was the dress. Not you, the dress. I had a hard time keeping the shock off my face when I realized that the aged nun I had anticipated was stunning,” he ducked his head and blushed. “When I asked you to turn,” he made the swirling motion with his index finger, “I confess I was not looking at the dress.” 

She laughed, trying to shake off the drugging effects of his kisses even as the skin of her wrist burned. “Hmm, well I believe I made my opinion known just as clumsily. But tonight you look just like a sea captain, although your not acting like one. I’ve read a few of Liesel’s novels, for research of course. You haven’t haven’t even tried to kiss me,” she teased back. “Its very disappointing for a supposed, what did they call you at that garden party? Ah, yes, a hazard...”. Georg tugged at the hand he was holding and brought their eyes had fluttered closed and he felt his body lean forward to press bodies together, but didn’t move to kiss her, just gave her a slow half smile. 

“Are you asking me to kiss you Fraulein?,” he leaned in, his tone amused at their teasing game. Georg was enjoying the torturous game of running his gloved fingers up and down the bare skin of her upper arms, absorbing the warmth of her skin but not able to feel its softness. Her kisses against her eyelashes when they suddenly opened, dilated and dark blue. 

“Please, “ she whispered, letting her desire for him seep out. Game over, he thought as he slid his hands around her waist and he kissed her hard, giving in to the demands swirling inside. He could feel her fingers clutching at his jacket and curling into fists as she pressed close to him and their kisses began to meld one into another. 

A piercing wolf whistle broke the spell between them and Georg growled as he flicked his eyes up the staircase to identify the culprits who were giggling madly behind the hallway doors. Maria, despite the embarrassed blush she knew to be painting her cheeks, muffled a laugh and tried to cover her smile by turning out of his arms to gather her bag from the table and pull herself together. 

“Kurt von Trapp!,” he called out. “I know it was you, none of my other children excel at that particular skill half so well as you do.”

Kurt emerged from his hiding place behind the door, still grinning, and gave a shrug. Friedrich and the rest soon joined him in the hallway. Georg sighed as the thought of disciplining them harshly dissipated as he watched their eager faces attempting to squash their laughter. It had been very funny he supposed. 

“Alright, you’ve had you fun at your old man’s expense. Off to bed with you.” He grabbed Maria’s wrap off the table and as she turned to allow him to cover her shoulders he sighed. 

“Its just as well,” he grumbled. “Another moment or so and we would not have made it to the party…”

“If you’ve changed your mind I would be glad to stay here. We are all dressed up, perhaps we could have a dance in the music room instead,” she offered with perfectly innocent sincerity. But he caught the little sparkle of mischief in her eye. 

Georg smirked a little and leaned into whisper in her ear, “My love, the way you look in that dress, if we stayed here we would not be dancing.” Giving her earlobe a little nip he pulled away with a wink and watched a scandalized blush creep up on cue and he opened the door and ushered her out into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

“You’ve been very quiet since we left the house.” 

“Perhaps I am afraid of your driving?” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“Well, there was that one time, on our way to…”

“That was not my fault, and you know it,” he waggled a finger at her. “Friedrich conveniently forgot to tighten the lid on that jar of grasshoppers he had secreted in his pocket.” He paused and cocked his head to the side, clearly considering something. 

“You know they've been so well behaved lately we might want to start frisking them again before we leave the house." Maria gave a hum of thoughtful approval before he continued. 

"Where was I? Oh yes, when they made their escape Gretl screamed at such a high pitch I am certain dogs in the area howled in pain. It startled me! I may have, may have, swerved...a bit,” he gave a haughty little sniff. "It was justified under the circumstances, I'm fairly sure I had a mild heart attack. I regrouped nicely though.” 

“You did, but after you said those words that I hadn’t actually heard strung together in a sentence. Let me see..”

He held up a hand, “Don’t repeat it, I beg you. I had not been, inspired, to use that phrase since my sailing days.”

“Maybe not the whole phrase but I recognized one of those words, because you had said it before, but rather under your breath.” 

“I have never...when?” 

“That night a few days after we got engaged. I came to tell you that Louisa’s hair was back to normal after the blue ink and, well, we laughed and, then...you know," she whispered feeling the blush burn. Would she never stop blushing in front of him? 

"And as I was leaving I realized I’d left the towel I had been carrying behind and heard you say it, to yourself.” 

Georg remembered the scene well. He seemed to have near perfect recall where Maria was concerned. Perhaps because his thoughts turned to her so often. It had been so heart achingly wonderful to have someone else to share his children with. To share himself with, that he couldn't help but revel in it. 

Laughing over the blue streaks in Louisa's hair had resulted in his reaching up to stroke the side of her cheek and inform her that some of the ink had made a mark on her as well. As soon as his fingers had touched her skin the laughter had stopped and his heart had started pounding. Before he could collect himself he was leaning in and pressing his lips to her temple, across her cheek, to the corner of her still upturned mouth, feeling her breath stutter against his cheek. 

Suddenly his arms were full of her as she responded by leaning in, balancing on her toes and sealing them together head to toe. Georg was applying increasingly desperate kisses to her lips, his hands slipping up the bare skin of her neck and into her hair as his mind quickly calculated the odds of whether or not he would break anything of value when he swept it all off the desk. Realizing where he was actively steering his fiancee of only seventy two hours he had gently pushed her back a bit and stammered an apology, which she would have none of. She had simply given him a kiss on the cheek, told him she enjoyed their “talk" and hoped to "chat" again soon and walked out. He had a very clear memory of leaning a hand on his desk, worrying his swollen lower lip with his teeth, and realizing the uncontrolled depth of his desire for her. He had let out an ungentlemanly word to help ease the tension he'd built up in her arms. 

“So I did…," he mumbled, glancing over to find her eyes shining at him. Clearing his throat of the sudden tightness he felt there he sought to lighten the mood. "What can I say my love, I find you very very tempting.”

“Me? Tempting?”

“Would you prefer tantalizing?”

“No, I…”

"Fascinating?"

"Hardly..."

“Intriguing?”

“I…”

“Fetching?”

“That’s ridi-”

“Appetizing?”, he leered, grinning with pleasure at the freedom to tease her. 

“Georg!” She covered her cheeks knowing they were painted with a scandalized blush he was so aggravatingly able to summon at will.

“How can a woman who is unafraid of a fearsome naval captain be afraid of a silly little party?,” he asked with a smirk. “And don’t look so shocked, I know you. And you have been twisting that handkerchief from your handbag into oblivion since I started the car.”

Maria tried to take a deep breath but she couldn't seem to get enough air in. “I am scared. I don’t want to make a wrong move or say the wrong thing to the right person and have you made a laughingstock for choosing me.” 

Maria couldn’t help but see herself in stark comparison to the lovely and elegant Baroness Schrader, who was clearly the sort of woman that he had been expected to marry. She was certain there was scandal enough he had been shielding her from already. They had been going out into society very gradually, and deliberately she realized. Strategic as always, he was introducing her to his closest friends first, who would support him and in deference support her as well, and slowly bringing her out amongst those people who might judge her, harshly. Georg had tried to give her time to practice but she wasn't sure she'd had enough. Could ever be truly ready. Some things simply needed to be faced, ready or not. 

“I know,” she said patting her hand on his arm, unsure whether she was comforting Georg or herself. “I’m being silly and probably making this much bigger in my head than it will be in person.”

“Would it help if we sang about your favorite things?”

She let out a laugh at that and felt a bit of the heaviness that had settled on her ease.

“Probably not, but thank you for offering.”

He reached across to take her hand in his. “Love, you have nothing to fear. There is nothing and no one that could make me change my mind about you.”

"I feel as though we are all playing a game and I haven't been told all the rules," she said a little sadly as she tangled her gloved fingers into his bare ones, glad he had slipped them in his pocket before starting the car. He was always so warm. She resisted the urge to wrinkle them both by curling up on the seat next to him and burrowing in.

"Rules?” he smirked. “Darling," he said with a shake of his head, "When you've been told the rules you don't follow them."

"That's not-"

"You follow your heart and I don't want you to change that. Or anything else about you." 

"You should have listened that day when I told how much trouble I'd been at the abbey."

He gave her a sly wink. "I've grown rather fond of your rebellious streak."

“But Georg, these people, your people; they are sophisticated and lovely and always know the right things to say. Especially when they say unkind things but manage to make them sound polite.” 

“Sweetheart…”

“And the women, they seem so comfortable flirting with all the men and flattering them into foolish puddles and I just can’t seem to do that.”

“Lucky for you I like women who enjoy shouting at me and make sure I know my place, without using a whistle."

“Georg you are ridiculous tonight, and absolutely no help,” she exclaimed as she let go of his hand and made a good show of looking exasperated, but he could hear the laughter in her words. 

“See, your irritated with me and I am fighting an impulse to pull the car over and kiss you until…”

“Stop,” she said sternly but she was fighting a smile and he knew it. 

"You’ve already met my closest friends, they were enchanted. Their wives took to you immediately, had you bundled off into a corner not ten minutes into being introduced and you had them all giggling like school girls. You never did tell me what story you told them?” He asked with a raised brow, hoping his blatant reminders of her success would outlay her fears.

"Oh, they asked about life in the abbey, how quiet it must have been compared to running herd on seven children and I told them the abbey could be surprisingly loud.” He raised a brow and pinned her with a look that said he know the abbey had been a quiet place until she had arrived. 

She ducked her head under his scrutiny and wondered, not for the first time, if he could read her mind. “Well, I told them of the afternoon Sister Berthe went into my room and found the baby goat... She opened the door and the goat ran out, knocked her down and proceeded to careen through the abbey until another postulant, Hannah, managed to distract him with some carrots… But not before he spoiled the evening mass and had drunk most of the holy water from the sacristy. Oh, don’t try and hold back it was funny, well not then but.. There was a Bishop visiting, he came back all the time after that. Said we were such an exciting Abbey.” 

Georg laughed aloud at that and made a mental note to ask her more about her life at the abbey. 

"You see darling, everyone knows everything about everyone at these sorts of parties. You'll be a hit simply by being new and you'll intrigue them by being unknown," he frowned as the last bit tumbled out of his mouth and he saw the light in her eyes begin to fade and her brow furrowed, the little line crinkling between her eyebrows. He'd said the wrong thing somewhere in there. 

“What if they hadn’t? What if Ben or Christoph or Max had disapproved?”

“I find that quite impossible to even consider. But I would have walked away from them without a backward glance,” he said suddenly serious, his hand reaching over to cover hers. “Or in Max’s case thrown him out of the house. I don’t think he is ever going to leave...” Georg let out an extravagant sigh and shot her a grin before turning them onto a small private road. He shot a look over his shoulder to make sure there were no cars behind them and slowed down to a stop. 

“Maria,” he paused to make sure he caught her eye and held her gaze. “I love you. Selfishly, I want to show you off. I am proud of you. But if you don’t want to go in we won’t, we can close ourselves into the villa and I’ll...build a moat around it. Actually, sealing ourselves into the bedroom has merit,” he gave her a wicked smile and she gave him the same look she gave the children when she caught them in trouble. 

He tipped her chin up with his hand, “I don’t give a damn what other people think of me, or you, or the decisions we make. This, “ he gestured between the two of them, “is the only thing that matters. Have confidence,” Georg whispered as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers and she felt the determination in his kiss as he pulled away. 

Pulling her wrap closer around her shoulders and taking a deep breath she seemed to absorb his words and gave him a smile. 

“Last chance to change your mind,” he offered. But she shook her head as he started the car down the road again. 

As the lights of the house began to appear in front of them Maria felt the dreadful twin sensations of having a light head that threatened to float away and heavy lead rock sink into her stomach, keeping her grounded to her new reality. She watched as they joined the cue of cars waiting to spill their elegant passengers out into the glittering swirl.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

Maria stifled the sudden urge to roll her eyes as she spied yet another lady dragging her gentlemen over to Georg under the guise of making sure said gentleman had a chance to get “acquainted”. Dying to meet a ‘Naval Hero’ indeed, she gave a little huff under her breath. As far as she could tell the men seemed happy to say hello and the women seemed happier to see which one could get close enough to detect which aftershave he might be wearing--possibly by tasting if necessary. The crush of people in the ballroom was quickly making her feel pressed in, squeezed under the sheer numbers as well as the staggering amount of perfumes, pomades, and colognes. 

She found herself looking longingly at the double doors that led out onto terrace and adjacent gardens with longing; she felt the fresh air beckoning in a way she hadn't known since she left the abbey. Perhaps she could simply slip out, make her escape utilizing that wonderfully placed potted lemon tree… 

Maria risked a glance at Georg, standing beside her with his arms crossed over his chest, nodding in deference to the conversation ebbing about them. She startled a bit as she felt Georg run his finger down the back of her arm until she glanced over at him, his touch concealed by his arms. Such a clever man she had, managing to touch her intimately in such a public place. Georg was not looking at her but the corner of his mouth turning up a bit, very subtly alerting her to the fact that he knew she wasn’t paying attention. 

“Of course, Baroness, it’s always a pleasure to see you again. And how is your family?,” she heard Georg finish smoothly, her daydreaming preventing her from catching the names of any of the group Georg was currently exchanging pleasantries with. Maria’s eyes were drawn to the neckline of the older woman in front of her which threatened to be over run by a small sea of pearls. Deciding to simply smile and act as though every word were fascinating Maria forced herself to pay attention. Oh, what was their name again? Walnut? No, Walner? Or was it Schwarz?

Baroness SchwarzWalnutPearls was happy to have the floor as she extolled the virtues of all her daughters and sons which gave Maria another minute to asses the rest of the women in front of her. All of them looked to be about the age of Sister Margaretta, only much less friendly and far more overly accessorized. She could hardly tell where one woman started and the next stopped as their various feather plumes and ropes of jewels bled into one another. She was starting to miss Sister Berthe, at least when she appraised her with that knowing glance she knew what to do… She didn’t think hitting the floor would be useful under the circumstances, though she was certain that if she stood amongst these women long enough she would put her foot in her mouth. 

A gentleman she had never met came over and asked if he could “borrow” Georg for a moment to introduce him to his father. Maria gave him a gracious smile and resisted the urge to clasp his arm and force him to stay beside her. Georg looked a bit torn but she flashed him her “confident” smile. 

“Oh, do go on Captain von Trapp. We’ll just take our dear little Maria over to meet some of the other women here,” one of the matrons offered in graciously oily tone. Maria gave a half hearted smile of barely concealed unease. 

“As you can see, Georg, I’ll be well entertained in your absence,” she managed. As she was politely drug away she looked over her shoulder and mouthed, “Save me,” and shot him a wink. He gave her a half grin as he turned away, and she felt her heart flutter, reminding her and all the women watching him just how handsome he was.

She had to admit that for all the roiling jealousy she had felt in this ballroom he never took notice of a single feathered girl or be-pearled lady. While she was watching them, he was watching her. Always. Being the object of such single minded focus was both flattering and daunting. 

She felt the beringed hand with the iron grip on her arm give her a hearty pat to grab her attention. 

“So, you’re the young lady who has finally captured the attention of the allusive Captain von Trapp,” she felt all their eyes raking over her from head to toe. She felt her body tense in response to their scrutiny. 

“Tell us dear, how is it really?”

“How is what?,” asked Maria, already bewildered. 

“How do manage that pack of rabid anim-, er, children all day?”

“Oh, well, the children and I get along--”. 

“You get on with them? I have heard such tales! Frogs, snakes, spiders, and one instance where they hid dozens of pieces of cheese throughout the nanny’s rooms,” she wrinkled her nose in distaste, “...took them weeks to air it out.” 

“Is it true he whistles for you? Elsa Schrader said--”

“He has a whistle?”

“I’ll just be he has a whistle...”

“Gerta!,” came a loud whisper from one of the ladies. 

“How much has she had to drink?,” asked another under her breath as she deftly plucked Gerta’s champagne glass out of her hand and replaced it with a glass of punch.

The gathered herd noticed that the innuendo inherent in the comment was lost on the young lady as she answered honestly. “He did have a whistle, the grounds are quite extensive. But he has,” Maria said, giving a small smile, “mellowed a bit. He doesn’t use it at home anymore. Unless we can’t find someone.”

“Do tell us all, what is tall, dark, and brooding like at home?”

Gerta gave a little hiccup, “Forget the home, what is he like in--oofff! Celia, why do you keep elbowing me?”

“For heaven sake, someone go and find Hans so he can pour her into the car before she causes more trouble.”

Celia rolled her eyes and leaned in to Gerta to whisper conspiratorial tone which naturally everyone could hear, “She was a nun, is a nun, a nanny, actually I’m uncertain.”

“I was never a nun,” Maria clarified. “I was a postulant, I hadn’t taken my vows yet.” 

“Well, she doesn’t look like a nun tonight,” Gerta replied tartly, her eyes squinting into the distance as she surveyed the ballroom. “And he seems to agree with me,” she said sloshing her punch cup in the general direction of Captain von Trapp. “Hmm, he certainly does keep his eye on you young lady.” 

The women in the group turned in a sort of be-feathered unison to find Georg in the crowd. Rather than be embarrassed at being caught staring at his fiancee he merely inclined his head in recognition of all the ladies and then brought his eyes up to catch Maria’s and he gave her a subtle wink, his lips curling into a barely there smirk. The blush covered her cheeks and rushed down across her shoulders. 

“Oh my!”

“Did you see that?” said another matron fanning herself so fast she was creating a tiny whirlwind. 

“I might have need of my smelling salts, I feel a tad dizzy,” Gerta mused as she began to list to the side, leaning heavily on Celia. 

“That’s the bottle of champagne you drank,” admonished Celia with a little shove to straighten her friend. 

Maria was beyond confused as she watched the women descend into private conversations, seemingly forgetting her presence for the moment. Beginning to back up in an effort to escape she watched one very elderly lady approach her. 

“It must be quite a change for you my dear, for the better I think.” She leaned in to whisper in Maria’s ear, “Don't you worry for a minute about any of them, they are sour old gossips the lot of them and you and your Captain are news, for this week anyway. Go now while you still can!” She gave her a tender grandmotherly smile and then sharply invited the vultures for some more punch, physically steering a few of them away. 

Realizing that she was alone Maria scanned the ballroom for Georg. She found him with a group of former officers, twisting his gloves in animated conversation that was surely going to turn uncomfortably political as she watched the vile Herr Zeller slither closer. By the set of his jaw Georg had seen him as well and was relishing the opportunity of a confrontation. Obviously Zeller saw the same look on the Captain’s face and performed an abrupt about face and slithered back to a darkened corner of the ballroom, where he belonged, she thought. Maria decided to grab her fresh air while she had the chance. As she slipped behind a pillar on her way to freedom she caught her name in a snip of conversation and felt herself pause, knowing she shouldn’t and hearing Sister Berthe in her mind warning her that those who eavesdrop rarely hear good news. 

“Well, I don’t know Adelaide, I think she is rather pretty, and her hair is unconventional, but she was going to take holy orders, that must count for something.”

“Truly Sophie,” came the haughty reply, “if you can’t find something interesting to say about the mountain girl go get us more punch. I suppose she’s decent enough, but he could have had anyone, any woman in this ballroom or any other in all of Austria. He had Baroness Schraeder all but chasing him, she even left Vienna to follow him!”

“Well, that mountain girl apparently stole him right out from underneath the Baroness.” 

“But really what could they possibly have to talk about?”

“Maybe that’s why he hasn’t danced with her yet? Nothing to talk about…”

“Or maybe the mountain girl doesn’t know how to dance?” offered Adelaide. 

“If I was her I’d be sure to let him know how much I needed the the practice dancing!” 

Adelaide gave delicate snort, “He’s clearly marrying her to tend all those children of his, Katrin, it’s probably cheaper than paying her to stay on.”

“What can she possibly know about running a house like that? Didn’t she take a vow of poverty...guess she changed her mind when she caught sight of his bank statement.”

“Or his backside…”

“Pia!,” exclaimed a voice, obviously pretending to be scandalized even as they all broke into tiny little giggles. 

“He is handsome,” the speaker let out a sigh. “I don’t care if he is half our age.”

“From what I have heard if he’s even half as rakish at this age as he was when he was our age, well, let’s just say there would be a pushing match happening right now.” 

“I think you’re all wrong. The way he looks at her,” Sophie sighed, “What I wouldn’t give for a gentleman to look at me that way. I’d faint dead away.”

“Sophie, you fainted dead away last week when that fishmonger we passed chopped the head off that fish. You’d most likely die if someone actually looked at you like that.”

“True.” She let out another sigh. 

As the ladies drifted off to find another victim to gossip about Maria forced herself to move toward the open door, certain that the open mouthed gape frozen on her face would not be a good look for a ballroom. She deliberately unclenched her fists as she finally made it thru the doors and out onto the blissfully empty terrace. The air was warm and she stripped off her gloves in a fit of anger and tossed them onto the ledge of the railing, the buttons making a soft ping instead of the satisfying crash she wished for. 

How dare they? 

Well, of course they dared. She had been the governess who fell in love with her employer, she had been a postulant, and she had come from humble beginnings. Facing the bare facts of the situation in those bleak terms did make her look opportunistic and greedy. And truthfully, had she heard this story about another girl from the abbey she might have thought the worst of them too. Perhaps the sting of their words had been the sting of the truth she heard in them? 

But was their version of the truth the truth she believed about herself? Yes, she had been a postulant on the path to God’s will, and she still believed she was on that path. Yes, she had been a governess, a teacher who had ended up learning more than she had taught about the love of a family and a man. She would not regret that or them. Yes, she had humble roots, but those roots made her love the simple things in life and the unpretentious life suited her. As she reminded herself at the beginning of the evening, she was not made for a life of sorrow or self pity. She had confidence in who she was. And she was confident in him, in them. 

Although, they were absolutely right about one thing. He did have a nice backside. 

 

** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** 

"Ahh, I should have known I would find you out here," he remarked as he wandered out onto the terrace with two champagne flutes in his hands. She shot him a half smile but didn’t meet his eye. Instead she watched the light from the party catch the bubbles in the glasses.

"Yes, I suppose by now you do know to find me outside," she replied as she held her hand out for her glass. He slid right up next to her and set his glass down on the railing. She smiled fully at that. He didn't care for champagne but bringing her a glass would have given him an excuse to leave his throng of admirers behind to find her. She certainly had not had a life conducive to being waited on, but he seemed determined to spoil her and who was she to stop him when it felt so lovely to be cared for? 

The simplest things, a pulled out chair, flowers left on the bench she frequented, a hand to the small of her back, sinfully expensive chocolates he scandalized her with when he declined her offer to eat one claiming he would rather taste them from her lips, or more memorably acting the part of the pirate and sweeping her into his arms when he caught her playing princess in a tower with Marta and Gretl. All reminders that she wasn’t alone anymore. And she was thankful. And it didn’t matter the why and how of what other people thought of her or him.

He watched her carefully for a moment before resting his elbows on the railing. "Maria," he murmured, "If you want to go you only have to say...we needn’t stay.” 

"Oh, no,” she reached out a hand to squeeze his arm in reassurance. “I don’t want to leave now. I did before but...well, that was before I came out here and cleared my head a bit." 

Immediately on the defensive his head snapped up and surveyed the party guests with narrowed eyes. "Was someone unkind?" 

"No, yes, I overheard…,” she gave an exasperated huff. “It's rather embarrassing actually...I was,” she sighed, “I was angry and jealous you see, and thought I should take myself for a walk before I did something we would both regret."

"Jealous? Darling if I have done anything..."

"My dear,” she chuckled, "You don’t have too. Surely you see how handsome you are. They can't help themselves really and I have decided that I can't blame them."

"You can't?," he shook his head in confusion, certain that he was missing something crucial.

She gave him a smirky little smile. 

"No, I can't. I admit I minded at first, all those breathy 'my dear Captains' and practically smacking each other with their fans to get a better position, and some of them old enough to be your grandmother! All the while batting their lashes.” She rolled her eyes as she mimed fanning herself and blinking rapidly. He let out an impolite bark of laughter at the other ladies expense but felt his mood sober as she continued in a sad tone. 

“The whispering and giggling, most of which was directed at me but, ah ah," she said, touching his chin with her fingertip to turn his head back toward her and not whipped around to see which guest might have dared a snicker. 

"They can flirt and simper, and say unkind things all they want."

"They can?" he asked, surprised at her sudden change of heart. 

"Yes, because I know something they don't know. Have something they don’t."

"And what is that, darling?"

"It was the gloves that made me realize."

"What gloves?"

"Yours."

"What about them?"

"It's not them per say, it's what you do with them."

"Other than wear them, you mean?"

"Mm hmm," she replied reaching down to take one of his gloved hands in hers. "Do you know that you fidget a great deal with them?" He shook his head as he watched her splay his fingers in front of her face, was she going to count them? 

"Well, you do,” she continued. You take them on and then off, sometimes you wring them when you’re irritated or bored. And you tighten the fingers a bit...” she said, still studying the crisp white stitches across his palm. 

"I still don't think I follow..." Georg muttered, confused at the path of her conversation, even as the skin under the fabric of his gloves began to tingle with anticipation that she might touch him again. He rolled his eyes a bit at himself. When had he become such a lovesick schoolboy that the mere thought of Maria touching his hands became, well, erotic? These past weeks he had suddenly found the freedom to touch her whenever he pleased, and he was pleased often. He had to keep them simple, chaste really, a drag of his fingers down her arm as she passed him by, a quick brush of her cheek, tangling his fingers in hers when they sat close enough. Virginal was the word; all in order to remain in control of the sudden rage of desire she had unwittingly unleashed. There seemed to be no end to his hunger to put his hands on her, and the chaste touches pacified the roar inside, occasionally. 

But sometimes, well, he blissfully gave in. As he had this evening or as he had the other day in an alleyway next to the dressmakers pressing frantic kisses against her neck, practically in public. But as they navigated their way into knowing one another it was almost always him who initiated touching. Despite the fact that his fiancee was tactile in all other aspects of her life and that she seemed to enjoy, even revel in his attentions, she rarely dared to touch first. Perhaps the rarity of the experience is what made his whole body shiver, no matter how simple the touch. 

To have her in front of him now, just outside the throng of people, touching him, studying him, when he could do nothing in return to escalate it was maddening. He shook his head a bit to clear the fog when he realised that she was speaking to him.

"...and all those ladies in there, dripping with class and sophistication, the ones who follow you and wonder what you are doing here with me when you could have had any of them? I needn't be jealous of them, they are jealous of me,” she was matter of fact. She pressed her whole hand against his for a moment, as though measuring how much smaller her fingers were compared to his.

“Do you know why?" she whispered as she traced each of his fingers slowly, up and down, unknowingly leaving little strings of fire in her wake. “I’ll bet you don’t,” she said with a crooked grin. 

He simply cocked his head to the side, intrigued. 

"Its because at the end of the night,” she gave a gentle tug at the fabric on the tip of his index finger followed by his middle finger, “...when the last waltz has played,” she whispered as she loosened the rest of his fingers in turn, “I get to do this..." she looked him in the eye as she removed his glove with a slow slide. 

"I get to feel your fingertips on my bare skin, with nothing between us. No gloves, no mask, no pretense. I know you, have you, I see you. Not Captain von Trapp but Georg. And it doesn’t matter why they think you wanted to marry me. Or why I want to marry you." 

He watched her, wondering how she had been able to read him, from the very start, to know what he needed to hear. Her words had at once made him feel intimately connected to her and oddly exposed at the same time. His tight control over his emotions the only thing preventing him from pulling her into his arms with everyone watching and kissing her until she begged for more. Instead, he allowed himself turn her hand over as he met her eye, “Yes, you do have me love...,” and he gave her a too long kiss on the back of her hand, “can have me.” 

Maria shivered when she caught the look in his eye. “Perhaps we should go, we could perhaps sit together in the music room? You’ll play for me?”

“I’m not sure-”

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Really?” 

“Really, Captain,” she smirked as she bit her lower lip in an effort to curb her smile.

“Captain again am I?”

Maria put on her best sultry pout, “I’ll call you sir, if you like, and mean it.” 

He laughs at her, delighted with her willingness, no, her eagerness to tease him, to play.

Georg cleared his throat and leaned in to whisper in her ear, “I have it on good authority that the next dance they are going to play is a Laendler.”

“Really? On whose authority?”

“Mine. I made a request. I would like the chance to finish what we started. And this time I can enjoy your blushes, assuming you can remember the whole dance this time.” 

“I remembered,” she said softly. Maria gave him a saucy smile, “Perhaps if you dance as well as you did that night I’ll let you have the kiss at the end,” she said as she handed him back his glove. 

“Oh ho, well then, wait, did you say a kiss?”

“Just the one, its traditional and appropriate for a public setting.” she affirmed, using the same in charge tone she used on unruly children. 

“Mmm, then I shall have to make it worth my while,” he said with twinkle of mischief in his eye. 

“Don’t you dare!”

She watched him slip his glove back on as he said, “No, you’re too late my darling, challenge accepted. Shall we?,” he said, offering her his arm with a gallant little bow. 

“Where you this much trouble in the Navy?” Maria asked. 

“Oh, much more,” he laughed. “Remind me to tell you a story or two, after we’re married.”

** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** 

 

“Adelaide, you look so grown up I hardly recognized you! Last time I saw you you here covered in chocolate cake,” Georg gave her a fond smile and seemed to stop just short of patting her on the head. “This is my fiancee Maria. Maria, this is Adelaide Hofer, I served under her father in the navy. Are your parents here tonight, I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing them tonight, do give them my regards.”

“I--they are, I mean, I will,” Adelaide faltered a bit. Maria almost felt a pang of sympathy, some days those eyes combined with a smile had rendered her tongue tied as well. Almost. 

“Excellent! Now if you’ll excuse me Maria has promised to help me practice my Laendler, I’m rather hopeless.”

“Yes, it was nice to meet you ladies, but you know us mountain girls, we need all the practice we can get,” Maria gave Adelaide a raised brow and a wide smile as she slid her hand from Georg’s offered arm and into the intimate grasp of his hand. 

 

The End  
~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~•~~

**Author's Note:**

> As always, a huge debt of gratitude to augiesannie for the “first look” and the encouragement to keep writing. And to lemacd for the advice about the "public place".


End file.
